The threads of an old life
by writterperson
Summary: Harry's wounds run deep, both physically and mentally. But now that he's a child again maybe he can learn to enjoy life. Despite the witch-king being after him...and Saruman. That doesn't matter though, "I'm use to being in danger. I want to help, I can't just stay here and wonder if everyone's ok. I can help! I'm appart of this fellowship too."
1. prologue

**The threads of an old life**

prologue

_"How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back. There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep…that have taken hold."-Frodo Baggins_

He was floating. His mind and body completely at peace for the first time in sixteen years. _'Where am I?'_ he thought as his eyes slowly opened to the pure white world he had found himself in.

_"You are in a place between your world and mine," a calm soothing voice answered. "You have gone through so much in your life, and even in death you had challenges placed before you. But I have brought you here in hopes that you can heal."_

"Heal? I think that might be a little late, now that I'm dead."

_"It is never too late."_

"After I heal can I go back?"

_"…I cannot say."_

"But I have to go back, there are people who will need me. People I need to take care of."

_ "No matter I still cannot tell you, but know that one other from your world is going with you. He will not be able to understand you, but you must do your best to protect him. He had followed you in your death, but his soul is heavily marked with destiny…he will not be aloud a peaceful rest until he has completed his purpose, rather it be the one he knows or another yet revealed."_

"…Harry?"

_"Yes, the young boy with a pure heart… his time here will not be easy. It was much harder to get him here when he followed, and I'm afraid I couldn't bring him through without some damage."_

"What!? What do you mean?"

_"He was not dead when he fell through, and certain sacrifices had to be made for his somewhat safe travel here."_

"Sacrifices?"

_"He body is now that of a youngling of six summers old, or rather how he was at six summers…which unfortunately also means his body is malnourished and covered in injuries of ranging severity."_

"Oh Harry…"

_"I must tell you, that you do have a choice, you can stay with him in silence or you can leave him and find your own happiness with those who will be able to understand you."_

"I will NOT abandon Harry! That is not an option at all." Anger filled his voice. Leaving Harry when he would be nothing but a six year old? In a new world where he would have to once again fulfill others expectations. That would be heartless and cruel, and something he simply couldn't do, but one thing did bother him. "Why won't he understand me?"

_"Your body was dead, and thus we couldn't bring it through in any shape or form. So we found one here that would be easiest for your soul to adapt to…"_

He mulled over the words briefly before understanding dawned on him. He gave a slight nod before he fell silent.

_"Are you ready?"_

"Yes."

The white around him pulsed slightly and began to lift, almost like a fog as he felt himself become more aware of his body. He felt the grass beneath his paws and a slight breeze ruffle his midnight black fur. And as the fog finally lifted his grey eyes fell instantly onto the tiny lump of cloth on the other side of the rocky plain. _'Don't worry Harry, I WILL protect you this time.'_

**A.N: I know this is really short, but this really is just a prologue. I'm currently writing the first chapter (which will be a LOT longer hopefully)and I'm quite happy with what I have planned. I just got my computer (after being without for like two YEARS) so I plan to update my other stories too, but this story has been swimming in my brain for a while now sooo chances are this will be updated most often. **

**I'm working off a note program for now (hopefully not for long) so please excuse any miss spellings or grammar errors for now, I'll try my best to fix ones I see but some still might slip through.**

**PLEASE REVIEW**

**and also three guesses on who's point of view this chapter is in?**


	2. Chapter 1

**The Threads of an Old Life**

Chapter One

Harry laid with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths, in and out. It hurt to breathe, but it hurt even more to move. He could feel the numerous fist sized bruises strain with each inhale, and felt the handprint placed around his throat twitch with every exhale, but all and all it didn't seem very different from any other time his uncle had seen it fit to "teach him a lesson." The only problem Harry had, was that he didn't remember how he had gotten to this state. The last thing he remembered was…"SIRIUS!" he had broken away from the group and had sprinted towards the veil. Was this what was on the other side? Ignoring his aches, Harry slowly got up. He had to find Sirius. Once he found him, they could figure out what to do. Harry turned, and froze.

Standing not four feet from him was a large black wolf; its muzzle even with his chest. Harry suddenly became aware of how small he was. He had never been "tall," but he knew that he hadn't been this short before. He took a slow measured step back, not taking his eyes off the wolf. "This can't be happening," he thought as he took another step back. "After all I've been through, I'm going to be eaten by a wolf." His heart thundered in his chest; he knew there would be no way he could out run a wolf, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

Just then the wolf gave a quick yip, and sat down. It stared at Harry with calm grey eyes, and wagged its tail. Harry paused. He slowly stood from his defensive stance and looked at the wolf closely. The wolf was skinny, but not overly so; its dark black fur was shiny but still scruffy looking, but what really caught his attention was the look in its deep grey eyes…It was pleading, and knowing in a way Harry had never seen in an animal, and that's when it clicked.

"Sirius?" he mumbled as he lifted his hand towards the wolf. The wolf slowly walked forward and nuzzled against his hand before licking it. Harry felt his heart soar, he dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around the wolf's neck. "Sirius! I thought you had…" His voice closed up, he couldn't say it, not now that he knew that his godfather was alive and well. Sirius gave a couple of happy yips in response before licking his face.

They spent a moment just enjoying the fact that they hadn't lost each other, before their mood became somber again. "Sirius…can you change back?" Harry asked as he looked at his godfather. Sirius shook his large muzzle and gave a short whine. Harry sighed but nodded in acceptance and then looked out onto the horizon. "Don't worry Sirius…I'll get us out of this."

Harry began to walk towards a line of trees in the distance. Sirius followed, his ears up in search for danger.

* * *

Many miles away, in the Elven tree city of Lothlórien, the Lady of Light paused and glanced eastwards.

"My lady, is everything all right?"

Galadriel frowned and continued her searching gaze outward. "Something has changed…" her voice was distant, like she wasn't really answering her companion's question. "A child…" She paused and let her thoughts carry her away, she knew that she wouldn't be the only one who felt this tremor in destiny, her next actions needed to be handled with care, or else the balance of power would shift away from the light. She turned and looked at her companion. "Enel will you bring my granddaughter to me? I'm afraid I must ask her to pass a note to Elrod and for him to make preparations."

"Yes, my lady" The elf bowed and quickly walked away. Galadriel gaze did not falter, and she waited until the younger elf left before letting a frown cross her face.

"Be strong little Ithryn. For you hold the fate of many on your strong shoulders."

* * *

Harry glanced down at the rocky hills from his high perch. He and Sirius had been walking for days, before finally stumbling upon this large plateau. It was large enough to keep them out of reach of most predators, and had a great view of the surrounding area. A perfect area for Harry to heal up before looking for a town.

He and Sirius quickly settled into a schedule for their little base. Sirius would leave, collect food, then bring it back to Harry, who would then cook the meat over a fire for them both to share. And while Sirius hunted, Harry would spend his time clearing some of the rubble that covered the top of the plateau. The plateau, from what Harry could guess, use to be some sort of watch tower, and had a number of hidden pockets that held a couple of old items. From the debris Harry found a few useful items, like a pan, and a hole filled cloth he has been using for a blanket. But what he found most useful was an old rusted dagger he found underneath a few large rocks. When he found the dagger he'd spent the rest of the day cleaning the blade in hopes of convincing Sirius he was capable of doing more then "house work." But when Sirius got back and Harry offered to go on the next hunt, Sirius shook his head rapidly and gave a number of short barks that Harry guessed meant "no."

Harry could understand that Sirius was trying to protect him, but he couldn't help but be slightly irritated at his godfathers over protectiveness. He was sixteen-years-old, despite his current appearance. He was more then capable of taking care of himself; he had before. Sure he was injured, but they were all minor cuts and bruises, and most of the bruises were already yellowing, and had begun to fade. He told Sirius this in hopes of soothing some of the wolf's unease, but the reminder of his condition seemed to only put him in a worse mood.

It was on their fifth day in the tower, just before the sun began to set, that everything changed. Sirius went on another rabbit hunt, and had left Harry alone. Harry sat on top of some crumpled bricks, looking for the shadowy figure of his godfather, when he spotted a man and four child-sized companions. Harry gasped, and quickly jumped off his perch and crouched down. He watched as the man and his group came closer and closer to the plateau. "What if they're coming here?" He thought as his heart started to speed up. Harry sat as still as he could as he watched the group start up the narrow walkway up to the crumpling tower. "Were they friendly? Would they help?" Harry thought as he retreated further behind the old black bricks. Harry quickly ran and retrieved his dagger before concealing himself once more in a tight hole. His grip on his dagger tightened as a voice sounded from right below the tower.

"These are for you, keep them close…I'm going to have a look around." The voice wasn't getting any closer, but still Harry tensed. "Stay here."

Harry didn't move. He stood in his small hole and waited for something to happen, but nothing did. And after roughly thirty minutes he concluded that who ever these strangers were, they were staying down there. He let out a sigh, and slowly let his arms drop. He would just have to wait until Sirius got back. Harry slowly crawled out of his makeshift cupboard and sat down near the edge of the plateau, so that he could hear what the strangers had to say, but it wasn't long until their mindless chatter slowly lulled him to sleep.

* * *

Gandalf slowly opened his swollen eyes and looked up at the white bearded man in front of him.

"Gandalf…my dear old friend, don't you see? Change is upon us, and its time we aligned ourselves with the proper side. It won't be long until Sauron has everything he needs, and when that happens you don't want to be found on the wrong side." Saruman's deep rumble of a voice almost sounded mournful, and it caused Gandalf to look up.

"Everything he needs?" Gandalf questioned as he slowly leaned himself against one of the pillars of the tower. Saruman turned away from Gandalf, and looked down at the once beautiful courtyard.

"A child has appeared, Gandalf…" The words were quiet, and for a second Gandalf believed that Saruman was back to his old self. "A child who has magic running through his body…much like an elf does… but to such an extent that he may have more power then either of us."

Gandalf's eyes widened, but then he felt a stone drop to his stomach. "How do you know this?" Gandalf asked, his voice full of suspicion. Saruman was silent for a moment before he turned and looked Gandalf in the eye, his face once more emotionless and dull.

"The great eye sees many things…" His voice was trance-like, and Saruman appeared to be looking at something far away. "The boy shall be the last piece of the broken puzzle…and Sauron will once again rule over middle earth.

**A.N: Soooo yep here's the latest part. I really wasn't expecting this chapter to come out like this. But…well I started to write and it sort of took on a life of its own lol. But anyway I would like to thank everyone who fav/followed this story! It really surprised me, considering how short I made the first chapter. And a special thanks to those who took the time to review! Even a couple of words really inspired me to work on this. Anyway, thanks for reading**

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	3. Chapter 2

**The Threads of an Old Life**

**Chapter Two**

Aragorn slowly made his way around the hilled area near the plateau, his footsteps quiet and carefully placed. He was spending more time "looking around" then he had originally planned, but when he noticed the large footprints that surrounded the plateau, he felt that it would be better safe then sorry. He wasn't familiar with any large predators living in this area, but it had also been a long time since he'd been around the Watch Tower of Amon Sul. Normally, if he saw such footprints, he would simply keep going and find a new campsite. But with four tired hobbits with him, he really could go no further.

Aragorn crouched down and examined the tracks a little closer. They looked like wolf prints, but he wasn't quite ready to call them such. There was only one set, where wolves almost always travel in packs. The way this "wolf" walked was also…not quite right. The marks where that of a full grown wolf, and yet the steps were of an animal a little unsure of their body, like the animal recently had a growth-spurt and wasn't quite use to their wider steps. He let the oldest marks tell him a story.

The animal walked, in a zig zag pattern, almost as if unsure where to go. The animal would suddenly take off in a jog, before slowing again and crouching down, then it would sprint ahead. This seemed to happen a lot, but they always lead back towards the watch tower. It looked like the creature was teaching itself to hunt, but that didn't make sense for a full grown "wolf."

Aragorn sighed in frustration and stood. He didn't have time to be wondering around after some young territorial animal. The longer he was trying to track this "wolf" the longer he was away from the nearly defenseless hobbits. It was then that a dark figure appeared over a near by hill. Aragorn froze.

There on the hillside stood a large black wolf, a dead rabbit hanging from its mouth. It slowly glared down at him, and began to let out a low menacing growl. Aragorn slowly stood up, keeping his eyes locked with the large beast, that was definitely not the young awkward creature he had been picturing. The wolf slowly dropped the rabbit by its feet, and stared at Aragorn with annalistic eyes. Aragorn didn't dare move. He let the animal look him over. This wolf was no ordinary wolf. There was a sort of knowing look to the animals eyes that Aragorn had only seen in the elven horses in Imladris… He glanced at the wolf again before making a slow move to bow at his waist, never letting his eyes leave the wolf's.

He watched as shock seemed to cross the wolf's features before it too bowed at him. The wolf's ears twitch, and the beast quickly looked to its left. Then, not a second later, he heard it. That dreaded screech of the Nazgul. Thoughts of the strange wolf left him, and Aragorn took off at a dead sprint. The wolf quickly passed him as they both raced back towards the plateau.

* * *

"Put it out you fools! Put it out!"

Harry's eyes snapped open, as he heard the rapid arguing of the four man-children whom had set up camp right below him. Something had happened. He quickly straightened himself in his wedge of a hole and waited, his breath held tightly in his chest.

A loud screech tore through the air, and Harry's heart dropped. _"What was that?"_ he asked himself. These last few weeks with Sirius had been so monotonous that he had forgotten how strange this world was to him, how little he knew. He watched as the man-children rushed up to the top of the plateau, and into his line of sight. Despite the tenseness in the air, Harry couldn't help but stare at the four man-children. Their grown-up faces filled with fear as they protected the slightly shorter, darker haired, man-child. They were panicked, all four of them holding up swords they clearly didn't know how to use. Harry felt himself grown nervous, he grasped his own rusted sword and tensed his stiff body. He could feel his throbbing pulse pushing against his bruised throat, as his breath came out in wheezes.

The wind seemed to die and everything got silent. Five dark hooded figures slowly emerged from the side of the cliff, and Harry felt his heart stop. _"Dementors?"_ Harry stared as the five figures slowly drew their own swords and held them in front of their faces. They moved in sync, every step closer to the man-children taken together . Harry watched horrified as three of the man-children were carelessly knocked aside, with barely any effort from the cloaked figures. He fought with his inner "hero-complex" as the four cloaked figures slowly closed in on the dark haired man-child. _"Wait…"_ Harry quickly scanned his eyes over the scene playing out in front of him. _"Where did the other one go?"_ Harry asked himself, slowly poking his head out slightly to get a better look.

Suddenly his vision was filled with blackness. A scream tore from his throat as he tried to retreat further into his hole. They'd found him. The hooded figure reached its metal gloved hand into his hole and easily grabbed his tattered shirt. Harry tugged at his sword, trying desperately to maneuver it into a striking pose. The sword scraped along the black brick, but he couldn't seem to bring it past his elbow. He gave one last tug before he hissed in pain, the sword clattering to the ground uselessly. He'd torn open the back of his hand trying to maneuver the sword, and now he was defenseless against this hooded creature. He felt himself being pulled from his hole and lifted off his feet. Harry's heart thudded in his chest as he stared at the figure, desperately trying to pry the hand from his shirt. The figure let out a wheezed breath of its own and whispered to Harry, drawing him in closer to its face.

_"Gothob Ghaash, agh thrakob duump"_

Harry stared. Though the meaning was lost to him, Harry felt the words crawl across his skin. He no longer struggled against the hooded figure's hold and just gazed at the black hood in shock…That's when the whispering started. The temperature seemed to drop, and the hair on his arms slowly rose up. There was a slight pulling sensation in the back of his mind. It wasn't painful, like during his lessons with Snape, but rather soothing and alluring much like the Imperius curse. Both he and the hooded figure turned to look at the last dark haired man-child. He was backed against a rock, and held a golden ring. He inched it towards his finger; the voices increasing as the ring got closer. The world seemed to pulse and the pressure in Harry's head grew.

Harry began to feel sick. As the ring inched closer to the man-child, Harry felt a whirlwind of emotions swarm him. He snapped his eyes closed against the throbbing and flung his uninjured hand to his head, his scar throbbing in time with the pulsating world. He gave a quiet gasp and felt his entire body tense. "What's happening to me?" He gasped out, eyes squinting up at the hooded figure. The Dementor glanced down at Harry and then back to the man-child as he brought the ring closer and closer to his small finger. The Dementor seemed to make a decision and walked towards the man-child, dropping Harry at the feet of the other cloaked figures.

The voices got louder and louder. Harry couldn't stand it. He sat up slightly and curled his hands over his ears, trying to block out the horrible whispering. He could feel the blood from his hand dripping down onto his shirt, but he couldn't find it in him to care, all that mattered was making the voices stop. And suddenly…they did.

Harry glanced up, and saw the man-child disappear in front of the Dementor, but Dementor didn't falter. It lifted its long sword and slowly plunged it downward. There was a cry, and suddenly the dark haired man-child was visible again, grasping at a wound on his chest. Harry started, and made to move towards the man-child, only to feel a long boney hand clasp his shoulder. The other Dementors were much closer then he thought. They leaned over him, and one whispered:

_"Gothob Ghaash agh Thrakob Duump"_

There was a blur of black fur, and the hooded figures where pushed away. "Sirius!" He rasped out, pushing himself to his feet. Sirius's fur rose from his back and he began to snarl at the cloaked figures, but they didn't seemed threatened. After the initial surprise had warn off the Dementors quickly pointed their swords at Sirius. His godfather snapped and barked at them, dodging left and right as the hooded figures swung at him.

So distracted by his godfathers sudden appearance, Harry barely heard the slight clank of metal before he was once again grabbed by the scruff of his shirt, and tossed into the injured man-child. The man child gave another yelp of pain and Harry quickly tried to get off of him, only to feel the tip of a blade against his ear. Harry froze and his eyes met the man-child's for a second, before there was a great battle cry. Harry glanced to his left and saw a man rushing toward them, swinging a torch at the hooded figure.

The Dementor screeched and backed away from him and the man-child. Harry quickly rolled over and glanced at the fray the dark haired man had caused. The man swung the torch left and right as he fought the Dementor off with his long sword. Sirius's ears twitched back and quickly stepped aside as the man herded the Dementors together, flame catching the cloaks on fire.

"Frodo!" One of the other man-children rushed towards them and fell to his knees. Harry moved slightly out of the way and watched the two interact. The dark haired man-child, now known as Frodo, was still clutching at his chest his breath becoming very uneven.

"Oh Sam…" Frodo whined out as he looked up at the slightly rounder man-child. The other man-children rushed over to him and Frodo, the dark-haired man-child gasping in pain. Harry glanced away and looked up just in time to see the last Dementor fleeing over the edge of the plateau, and the man walking swiftly over to them. Sam's head spun around and he called out, "Strider!" The other man-children were whispering comforting words to Frodo, and Harry could see the man-child slowly loosing his color. Sirius reached Harry just as Strider reached the man-children. "Help him Strider." Sam's voice was mournful and afraid. Harry could hear Sirius whine next to him.

Strider glanced down and grasped the forgotten sword next to Frodo, a frown on his face. "He's been stabbed by a morgul-blade." As he spoke, the blade of the sword crumbled away. Strider's eyes glanced upward and met his briefly and then glanced at Sirius sitting next to him. He turned to the fretting man-children and spoke, "He is beyond my healing, he needs elvish medicine." He reached down and scooped up Frodo and swiftly began to walk away, the other's rushing to follow. But just as they reached the edge of the plateau, Strider turned.

"You cannot stay here." His eyes were sad, and he glanced at Harry and then to Sirius. "The Nazgul are not forgetful creatures, they will come back." Harry's eyes widened and he took hold of Sirius's fur. "I can lead you somewhere safe, but we must hurry." He glanced out into the night and then back to Harry and Sirius.

Harry tensed. He knew nothing of these people or about this world for that matter, but he did know he couldn't face those creatures again. Harry glanced at Sirius for his opinion, the wolf lowered his muzzle just slightly and Harry knew. Plus, Harry bet Sirius could handle the man-children and one man better then those Nazgul things. His decision made, Harry turned and nodded to the dark haired man.

Strider nodded and readjusted Frodo in his arms, "Let's go."

**A.N: I would just like to say THANK YOU for all who reviewed/Favorite /followed this story! I really didn't expect such a large following. makes me happy and excited to write this for you guys :) This took longer then I thought mostly because I wasn't sure how I wanted this battle to play out. I had one where Harry was stabbed, and then one where Harry didn't even move from the hole until after the battle was over. Both really didn't sit with me well and thus this was born. But no matter what I did with that beginning scene I just couldn't quite get it to how I wanted it. Anyway, I have two extra bits of info for you guys. **

**First the translation, for those who don't speak the black speech of mordor lol. **

_"Gothob Ghaash agh Thrakob Duump" _**translates roughly to**"lord of fire and bringer of doom."**I'm not really sure if the Nazgul can talk...but I'm taking creative liberty on that one just in case. **

**Second, I put a Harry Potter Reference at the beginning with Sirius and Aragorn. The first three reviews that correctly tell me what it was will get a sneak peek at the next chapter. (I'll PM them the first few paragraphs when they are ready!)**

**Please review! **


	4. Chapter 3

**The Threads of an Old Life**

**Chapter 3**

"Let us rest here." Strider stated softly as he laid Frodo down at the foot of a stone troll. He heard a collective sigh and a couple of bodies hit the floor. He knew he'd pushed them hard today, but the hobbits speed still was rather slow. He didn't feel safe here; there still wasn't enough space between the Nazgul and his small charges.

"Look Mr. Frodo…its Bilbo's trolls." Sam's voice was soft and clearly frightened. They'd been running on and off for about two days now, and Frodo was clearly getting worse. His skin became a sickly pale color and his eyes seemed to be slowly whitening. They were running out of time.

Strider glanced at the pair at the other end of the clearing. They'd both been keeping up fairly well and to most they would appear in good shape; but, as a ranger, Strider had better eyes then most. The child he had seen earlier during the battle was small, smaller then the hobbits, if only slightly. He had dark shaggy hair that hovered beneath his rounded jaw, and deep green eyes that seemed to glow in the dim lighting. Strider glanced away but kept an eye on him through the corner of his eye. The child was hurt, of that he was certain. His breaths came out as quiet wheezes, and somewhere along the way he had started to use his wolf friend as a crutch.

"He's gone cold!" Sam's voice carried over to him, and Strider quickly scanned the area…there was an ominous wind in there air.

"Is he going to die?" Strider turned to face the hobbits.

"He's passing into the shadow world, soon he will become a wraith like them."

Frodo let out a strained gasp. He'd been degenerating slowly for these past couple of days, but had suddenly taken a turn for the worst.

In the distance, the Nazgul let out a terrible screech, the sound piercing the hearts of the tired Halflings. Frodo wails in response and the hobbits grow quiet.

"They're close."

Strider quickly glances out into the forest. This wasn't good. Sam was right. They were still days away from Rivendale, and at the rate Frodo's wound was progressing; they weren't going to make it. "Unless…"

"Sam, do you know Athelas plant?"

"Athelas?"

"Kingsfoil?"

"Kingsfoil- aye it's a weed."

Relief flows over Strider as he lets out a soft sigh. "It may help to slow the poison. Hurry!" He sends Sam out into the nearby brush, and turns to the remaining hobbits. "Merry, Pippin" He waved for them to come closer to him. Strider looked at the two and then made a quick decision.

"Merry, stay close to Frodo, keep talking to him. It won't look like he's hearing you but you will help him stay in this world." Merry nodded and returned to Frodo's side, softly mumbling words to the ill hobbit. Strider's eyes shifted over to the other side of the clearing. The Nazgul had been interested in this small child, and that didn't sit well with him. From this distance he couldn't judge much, but he would guess the child was between four to six summers old, and thin…very thin. The boy had eyes that were too old, and they held a sense of mistrust and caution in them that a small child should never have. Which is why he chose Pippin, the youngest and least threatening of their group. "Pippin…I need you to go over and check on the child, see if he's hurt, and if you can find out his name."

Pippins eyes widened and glanced over at the child fearfully. "You mean over there with the wolf?" Strider gave a soft chuckle and nodded. "What if it eats me?!"

"He won't. The wolf seems very calm now; chances are he understands we're here to help. Now go, I have to help Sam find that weed." Strider gave one last reassuring smile and gently pushed the small hobbit in the direction of the child. Pippin crossed his arms behind his back, and started to whistle as he took slow measured steps closer to the small child. Strider glanced over and smirked as he saw the boy give a small smile at Pippin's antics. With one last long look at the remaining group, Strider turned and walked into the dense shrubbery.

* * *

Sirius kept his eyes on the small man, as he worked his way over to them. He knew it would only be a matter of time he and Harry would be confronted, but he had been certain it would be from the tall dark haired man. He watched as the curly haired man-child began to whistle and casually walked closer. He seemed innocent enough, but he couldn't know for sure. Sirius had come to realize that there was a lot in this world he didn't know.

Sirius glanced down to Harry. He was so small. Harry looked more like the child he had left when he went to Azkaban then the young teenager he'd met two years ago. He was also thin, way too thin. Sirius felt the familiar burn of hatred towards the muggles that had raised him. As soon as he had led Harry into the safety of that tower, Sirius had looked him over for injuries. Hand prints, and slash marks, from what he assumed was a belt, littered Harry's body, but despite that Harry wrote it off and told Sirius not to worry about it. Sirius had known the second he saw Harry two years ago, that Harry was strong. But it wasn't until he heard Harry call his injuries, "no big deal" did he really understand how strong the boy was. Years of abuse and neglect, and yet he still had courage, still had a will to protect those he cared about. He was proud of Harry, and extremely guilty that he hadn't been the one to see him grow into the young man he had become. Guilty that he had failed in the one thing he had promised James and Lily. And now, he had almost failed again. He had almost been too late.

He froze. When he saw the large cloaked figure that had grabbed onto Harry, his mind went straight back to the thirteen painful years in Azkaban, with the dementors, and…he froze. He'd almost let whatever those cloaked figures were, get Harry.

Harry's sudden soft chuckle pulled Sirius out of his gloomy thoughts, and he turned to look back at the small man-child. The man-child had stopped a little ways away and was now examining a tree as if it was the first he had ever seen. Sirius rolled his eyes and curled himself closer to Harry, his eyes twinkling with amusement. It was then that the small man walked over to them, still staying out of his striking range.

"Hi-ya…My name is Peregrin Took, but people call me Pippin… what's y-your name?" The small man-child spoke up, his voice cracking and his body tense as his eyes floated back and forth between Harry and Sirius.

Harry glanced at Sirius's face, and then back to Pippin. He gave a small shy smile and spoke quietly "…Harry." His voice was still raspy from the greenish bruise that circled his neck, but his soft words hid this well. Sirius watched as Pippin dug his toe into the ground, before he finally looked up at them.

"Your wolf friend isn't gonna eat me, is he?"

Harry gave out a light giggle and shook his head, "no…Sirius doesn't eat humans."

Pippin looked up and took a couple of hurried steps forward, his hand placed on his chest, eyes wide with fear. "It's not men I'm worried about. What about Hobbits?"

"Hobbits?" Harry tilted his head slightly and leaned out of Sirius's fur. Sirius's eyes examined the man before him closely. He had assumed that he was simply born small; it didn't even cross his mind that he might not be human, but now that he was looking for it the difference was almost too obvious. Pippin's curly light brown hair just barely hid his pointed ears, and despite his short stature his feet were rather large. They were hairy and completely bare of any sort of protection from the harsh ground. His face told of someone in their mid twenties, but he acted closer to Harry's real age.

"Yes, Hobbits. You know Halflings, Shire-folk?" When Harry still didn't show any signs of understanding, Pippin gave a sigh. "Well, if he ever gets hungry enough to eat a hobbit, you let him know we hobbits taste horrible." Pippin crossed his arms and gave a slight nod of his head.

"Sirius."

"What?" Pippin's arms dropped and he tilted his head in confusion.

"His name's Sirius," Harry clarified, placing a small hand on Sirius's side.

"Serious? Well, I guess he seems pretty serious…" Pippin took another cautious step forward and kneeled down next to Harry.

Harry let out a giggle and shook his head. "Not serious, _Sirius._"

Sirius watched as Pippin continued to look at Harry with confusion on his face, but he nodded to the boy nevertheless. Pippin, feeling brave and comforted by the young boy next to him, slowly raised his hand and brought it towards the wolf's side. Sirius watched as the nervous hobbit reached out. Though Pippin acted like a teenager, he also had a sense of innocence that calmed the wolf. When Pippin's fingers touched his dark black fur, he let out a soft comforting hum. Pippin jumped, before smiling and petting Sirius's side, "hello, Serious…"

There was a loud wheeze from the other side of the clearing, and Sirius's eyes jumped back to the other two hobbits. Pippin tensed and his eyes grew sad. Sirius couldn't see Harry's face but his tone dropped into a whisper. "Is he going to be ok?"

Pippin turned back to Harry and put on a large, fake smile. "Frodo will be fine, he's my cousin you know. Well, Second cousin, once removed, but I've known him all my life, and never will you meet a stronger hobbit. My mum says its because all the time he spends with old Bilbo, and…" Sirius slowly stopped listening to the hobbits rambling. His ears perked up and he sat straighter. He could hear hoof prints; someone…or something was coming.

Sirius stood and Harry quickly stumbled to his feet as well, and after a few tense seconds a woman on a horse appeared, and a sense of calm washed over the group.

"_Frodo…I am Arwen. I have come to help you." _Sirius's ears prickled and his head shot up. This woman wasn't speaking English, but when she spoke, a sense of understanding fell over him.

"_Hear my voice. Come back to the light." _

"Who is she?" The other hobbit asked as Sam stood to the side.

"She's an elf." The rounder hobbit responded, his voice small and full of wonder.

"Frodo!" Arwen rushed forward and kneeled at the ill hobbit's side, placing her hands on his chest. The tall dark haired man rushed after her and began to chew a small plant. Pushing the chewed substance into Frodo's wound carefully.

"He's fading!" Arwen grasped Frodo's small hand as he let out a wheezed gasp. "He's not going to last. We must get him to my father. I've been looking for you for two days." She stood and Strider nodded, lifting Frodo up into his arms.

One of the Hobbits took a step forward and frowned. "Where are you taking him?" No one responded, Strider mounted Frodo onto Arwen's horse, a sense of urgency returning to the group.

"There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know." She made a move to get onto the horse, but Strider blocked her path. He turns to her and gave her a determined look.

"_Stay with the hobbits. I will send horses back for you. The boy doesn't say much but he will follow." _His voice was quiet and rushed, but Arwen didn't let go of the reins.

"_I'm the faster rider. I'll take him." _

"_The road is too dangerous." _Strider's face was pleading, and he had a firm hold on the horses saddle.

Pippin stood and slowly walked away from Sirius and Harry. "What are they saying?"

"_Frodo's dying. If I can get across the river, the power of my people will protect him." _Her eyes grew soft and she gave a small smile. "I do not fear them."

Strider gave a soft sigh and nodded, _"As you wish."_ Their hands clasp tenderly before Arwen mounts her horse, with Frodo seated in front of her. She glanced back, and her eyes wonder to Sirius and Harry.

"_I fear that the wraths will come back once they see Frodo is beyond their reach… be careful." _

Strider nodded in understanding and slowly backed away from the horse. "Arwen, ride hard. Don't look back!"

The Elven lady reached around Frodo and spoke directly into the horse's ear. _"Ride fast, Asfaloth, ride fast!"_ She whispered harshly, and the horse was off, flying away from them quicker then they could have ever managed. Sam quickly walked forward and gasped.

"What are you doing?! Those wraiths are still out there!"

Strider stood with his back towards them for a few seconds, before turning to face his remaining charges. "Gather your things, we need to move."

**A.N: Well there is the next chapter! I'm happy to say most of you did answer the question right! I was talking about "respect hippogriffs" part of the third book. A few of you answered with other things though, and i give props to you as well, it was cool seeing what other people picked up in my writing :)**

**The three winners from last time were:**

**AnarchistMongoose**

**Xyla Zhin**

**My PenName is**

**They got the first chunk roughly two days ago, and truth be told I wasn't going to post this until thursday, but I found some time and I was finally able to go back and edit :)**

**This time the game is (in the words of young Pippin) "What are they saying?" We happened to be in sirius's point of view and thus we were reading the elvish as english, but I will give a preview to the first four reviews who translate Awen's entrence back into elvish. You know those first two lines, where in the movie Frodo see's Arwen appear in a shinning light and speaking slow elvish to him.**

**"I am Arwen. I have come to help you."**

**"Hear my voice. Come back to the light."  
**

**First four get a preview!**

**PLEASE REVIEW, it makes me more excited to write for you guys ^~^ thank you again for EVERYONE who reviewed/favored/followed this story.**


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